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The Tragedy of Erinalta Redux
The Tragedy of Erinalta Redux Mantis was quietly reading one of Astra’s precious tomes (and by precious, she meant any book, scroll or scrap of paper she happened to possess) looking for anything that could vaguely help him seduce the next woman he came across… or at least pass the time until then. As he read one of the histories in the book, his eyes grew wide. “This is it!” He shut the book decisively and went to look for Mankar Mankar tilted his head to one side, looking slightly puzzled. “Could you explain that again and this time leave in all the words?” “This is a history of an Orlanthi hero. Well, probably a Lunar hero.” He patted the book. “The important part is this is the perfect test of my theory that we can actively change events in Godtime, much like we affected Vivamort. This time, though, we can do it consciously. This account is of an Orlanthi and shaman attempting to take down a Reaching Moon temple. She eventually ends up captured and converted by the Lunars but if we can alter HER fate, maybe we can prevent the Red Moon from ever being born!” “I’m not sure this will work. And I’m only saying that because it’s insane! Isn’t this exactly what the God Learners were trying to do?” The shaman spread his hands. “It’s not like we haven’t done it already. The advantages here are the congruences are very, very strong. We fit the two questers perfectly, the nearness of the Glow, and so on.” “I’d rather not try anything tricky under the eye of the Red Moon or her proxies. Did I mention this is crazy?” “I’ve thought of this! We have something even better… the glow that our fellow Firstborn still carry should be sufficient to replace the actual Glow. It’s an artifact of Lankhar Mhy and not the Reaching Moon itself.” He looked very self-satisfied. “And the great thing is that this quest is very easy to start for us because of the various similarities but almost impossible for the Lunars to undo. Even if they could, the cult of Erinalta is probably too small to warranty much effort.” “If I recall rightly, we can vary the quest too much or it will fail. We might not be able to change her fate in the end… much less that of the Red Moon Goddess.” Mantis waved off the objections. “This is just a proof that it’s possible. The actual benefits are secondary.” “Okay, let’s try.” Mankar sighed. “Why do I let you talk me into these things?” The shaman grinned. “I’m just too damned charming… at least that what the girls say!” That evening, the two with Ryala marched out of the protection of the stead to a secluded glen free from most wild beasts or casual observation. Mankar was giving the last instructions to the woman. “Okay, you stay here and guard… the area. Nothing much should happen that you need to deal with but you should be ready for the unexpected.” “I need to guard what again?” “This area.” “From what?” “Anything unusual.” She wrinkled her nose and the motion caused her earrings to jingle slightly. “That doesn’t make much sense, you know.” He clapped her on the shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll do fine!” Mantis passed him a cup of wine. Odd bits of… things… floated in the liquid. “Drink up! This is a newer formulation of mine that should work better than either raw mushrooms or the pies.” The big warrior swallowed it without comment while Mantis drank from the bottle. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would taste. It was indescribably worse in so many ways that they almost cancel each other out.” “It’s a bit of an acquired…” Before he could finish both men vanished. Ryala spent much of the next hour (and indeed the entire night) cursing the two of them. -=-=-=- Mantis and Mankar found themselves hip-deep in a stream at one of the shallower portions. Mankar looked around, searching for the beginning of the quest. There would always be a marker or sign on the trail, though sometimes it was less than subtle. It was then they spotted a cursing, scarred woman trying to push her way through the fast-flowing stream. She was very tall -- and powerfully built -- yet only her head was in air She was obviously having problems staying upright and was nearly pushed off her feet every few seconds. Mantis called out, “The water is shallower here, you should come over.” She looked surprised at being hailed and nearly fell over when her concentration waned but then nodded and made her way to the men. Just then, Mankar vanished and his consciousness entered the woman’s body. He again experienced the odd sensation of being Other as well as Self. He felt her joys and pains as if they were his own and barely restrained an overwhelming sense of rage that dominated her thoughts. “Soooooo… how does it feel to be a woman?” She pointed her mace at the much smaller man. “None of your weird ideas or perversions, now. We have a mission to do and I don’t intend to be sidetracked by… stuff.” Although Mankar was most proficient with a sword, Erinalta found the weight of the mace quite comfortable. The urge to smash something was quite strong, though. “Let’s find that shaman and see what we can do here.” Before that, though, they encountered a woman wearing a beard though, perhaps due to the fact she was cooking, she had it dangling in front of her chest like an unattractive necklace. At least it might have been cooking as the smell coming from the pot was awful. It was like the essence of everything that separates goats from the rest of creation, concentrated and then spread around for all to ‘enjoy’. “Hey, you two!” She called out to Mantis and Erinalta. “I’ve been captured by a crazy wild shaman. Could you help me out by killing him? You look clever and strong, at least one of each, so you can handle him easily!” Erinalta went with the flow of the quest and asked, “Who are you?” “I’m Pinat, a Lankhar Mhy priest that was studying wild shaman. This one kidnapped me, though, and forced me to marry him. Bump him off and I can provide training at the temple and a chance at immortality when I write my journals!” Mantis asked, “Money?” Pinat sniffed, “A true scholar is uninterested in worldly goods.” She looked up, “There he is now! A few quick swings and we all can get back to civilization.” A very rough-looking man walked down from the mountain. He was shaggy like a bear, though not nearly as large, and had a pungent odor about him not at all dissimilar to the smell from the pot. “Ho, woman! Is the goathair stew ready? And who are these people?” Mantis shimmered and vanished before he could speak as he entered Tree Under Water. Pinat looked surprised and then just grumbled about unreliable shaman. “Ask her yourself! You have a mouth for all the good that it does anyone.” “I’m Erinalta and I was driven from my village after attacking the Lunars.” She gritted her teeth and continued, “Though we failed in the end.” He sat and motioned for the warrior to sit as well. “As it turns out, I have a few ideas along those lines. What say we summon elementals and tear down the statue? With that thing gone, dealing with the rest of the forces should be much easier.” “That almost sounds reasonable. But don’t attack the statue directly. Perhaps I can attack the base of their support in the population and raise their fighting spirit. While I do that, you can attack the base of the statue to knock it over. Surely seeing this, the rest will be roused from their torpor amidst all the injustices they suffer!” She jumped to her feet and shouted, “All their base are belong to us!” “That’s not grammatically…” Pinat started but was interrupted by Tree. “Quiet, woman! Finally, a soul that sees the wisdom of action!” “Look Erinalta, you just want to protect your tribe and rejoin them right?” “Well, yes.” Pinat smiled knowingly, “Why not just join the Red Moon, then? They would welcome you with open arms and you’d be back in charge immediately. They don’t mind women being in charge, obviously, then you could rule even if you decided to marry in the future.” “That’s sounds reasonable… except it’s EVIL! The Red Moon is a rapacious, deceitful, soul-sucking abomination upon the very land! All she touches turns to filth and rot eventually, no matter how much they try to clean it up!” She ranted for several minutes, swinging her mace all the time to the detriment of many trees and several boulders. The scholar sighed, “At least the food is good and they understand sanitation.” She sighed again and looked at the large cookbook she owned and used every bit of cooking knowledge she had to make the stew even more unpalatable even if technically edible. It had to be said, however, that Mantis found the wild shaman’s ability to seduce even the most unwilling was nearly godlike. Pinat barely struggled against him and that was only verbally. Mankar heard it all and was likewise stunned at how charismatic the man was (as long as you couldn’t see him). Pinat’s ‘inability’ to escape suddenly became all too clear. The next day, Trees Under Water said, “We go off to assault the foul city of the foul empire. I divorce you, Pinat, you are free to return to your temple!” She looked quite surprised by this. “Well, finally. Good riddance to you!” She gathered up her belongings but threw the cookbook at Erinalta. “I don’t need THIS anymore. Be off with you now!” Erinalta wasn’t sure what to do with it as her concept of cooking was that raw food was bad and cooked food was good. She put it in her sack, though, just in case. Though it was rare for a Lankhar Mhy to willingly give up a book, she figured that Pinat was sick of the sight of it after who knows how many years of ‘cooking’ with it. The road to the city was good and became increasingly wider and better maintained the closer they got. Tree Under Water sniffed and turned up his nose as he saw the stones that paved the road. “Bah! Lunars are so stupid, they are using a wall as the road… what a waste!” Erinalta nodded in agreement. “They always overturn the natural order of things. Walls should be vertical, not horizontal!” She looked to the entrance of the city and its ‘vertical walls’. Entrants were either paying a tax in coins and merchandise or showing paperwork to be allowed entry. “Best if I wear that cloak we prepared.” She put on the voluminous garb becoming, as far as could be told, just another anonymous warrior. Though a tall one! “I have coins here. Let’s find the temple and an inn so we may plot our strategy.” Tree had washed himself and mended his own clothing and looked much more presentable. At least enough to pass for someone who might have business in a city. They passed the guards without incident are were nearly past the sentry point when a familiar voice cried out. “That’s them! It’s the Orlanthi and shaman that come to attack the temple!” Fast though their reflexes and great ability were no match for the combined might of dozens of well-prepared guards and they were overcome quickly by a combination of nets and cruel clubs. As they were being dragged off, still netted and further bound with ropes, they saw Pinat smirking on the side as she wrote in her journal. Those close enough might have heard her mumble, “How to phrase this… they attacked a warehouse in their ignorance…” Soon they found themselves chained to a wall with shackles of iron. Neither strength nor magic could overcome their bonds and the dungeon walls were of sturdy stone. The sole light was from a narrow barred window high on the wall that (from the other side) was at street level. Tree mused, “Well, I didn’t see that happening.” “Exactly what DID you DO to that woman, shaman?” “Nothing she didn’t want! You heard her!” “Maybe divorcing her wasn’t the best plan, then.” “Dwelling on the past is not my style, I prefer to look to the future!” Just then something caught his eye… or more precisely, his ear. Standing out from the noisy street was the delicate sound of small bells, jingling in a rhythmic fashion. Ching-ching-ching, the bells came closer until their owner’s ankles came into view. Though the angle was bad, it would not be unreasonable to say that they were rather shapely and definitely feminine. The feet themselves were clad in low silk slippers and the calf above them was covered with a sheer material bound with a lace ribbon. Tree’s eye lit up… his future target had been acquired! Over the course of several weeks, the shaman managed to get the attention of the woman (Tilla, an Earthshaker priestess). From there the attention turned to interest, the interest to attraction, and the attraction to desire. Once again, Erinalta was amazed at the old shaman’s powers of persuasion and, if her eyes were closed, even felt some of the pull herself. Finally the day came where Tilla was pulled into their nascent rebellion. With but a word, the walls of the prison came tumbling down, causing no small amount of injury to the two captives but certainly crushing the guards (and an uncertain number of other prisoners!) She struck off their iron shackles and they pulled themselves from the rubble. From there was a desperate flight through the city using stolen weapons and the power of friendly spirits to cut a trail of destruction culminating with the breaking of the outer wall of the city with another massive earthquake. Using Erinalta’s martial prowess and powers of persuasion, they managed to assemble a gang of rebels that grew daily. Since their primary target was wealth-laden tax collectors, there was almost no need to proselytize! Some of them slipped into the workers rebuilding the city wall and cautiously introduced flaws so that it looked fine but was weakened severely. Weeks pass and Erinalta stood at the head of her followers, feeling justifiable pride. She lifted her great mace and shouted, “Another tax caravan, the largest yet, is moving nearby. Let’s show them our mettle!” The warriors raised up their weapons and shouted their battle cry, “FOR GREAT JUSTICE!” When they were gone, a messenger arrived and kneeled in front of Tree Under Water. “Great shaman, news from the city!” “What is it? Speak, man!” “The Elder Sister has announced that if even one more tax collector is injured, she will invoke the Reaping of the Red Moon and blight the earth killing all plants, decimating the livestock and afflicting all who live here.” “Hmmmm, she would go that far?” Just then, Erinalta returned with her warband. “Ho, warchief, did you happen to, ummm, ‘injure’ any tax collectors on that raid?” With a bloody grin, she held up a spike adorned with the heads of nearly a dozen Lunar officials. “Does that count?” The shaman didn’t know how to respond to that. The Reaping was as bad as they feared and was enacted almost immediately. The one good effect, if it could be called that, was that the populace could no longer farm or herd or hunt, so they turned their ears to Erinalta. “You see?! This is how the Red Moon treats her subjects… nay, her slaves! They have hoarded years worth of food in the city while you starve! Let us tear down those walls, butcher those pampered hedonists, and make the streets run red with the blood of infidels! The palace will be ours and we shall feast on her stolen meat and wine!” Truth be told, there was no better incentive to this. Even within a day, most stored food had rotted and the hunger gnawed at all. She sent a force to the gate as a distraction while the greater mass of her army was gathered near the ‘repaired’ wall or had already infiltrated the city. The darkened moon glowered impotently above the city and, with a single strike from Erinalta’s glowing mace, the wall came down! Tilla, alas, was not able to participate in the battle as the Earthshaker temple had bowed to the Red Moon cult and had revoked her ability to command the spirits. She had managed to recruit a friend to the rebellion, though. Erinalta guessed that the shaman had bewitched the new priestess as he had the last but made absolutely no efforts to find out the details. Still, even a defrocked priested along with her friend were a potent force, tearing down blockades and clearing a path to the main temple. Simultaneously around the city, the angry population had risen up and was attacking Lunar officials and other detested signs of oppression. Though there was more looting than actual combat from them, this was well within Erinalta’s plans. The common folk were there to cause confusion and hamper the defense, not to be a true fighting force. The best warriors were spearheading the city lord’s mansion while the shaman and other magical types were more covertly heading to the nearby temple of the Reaching Moon with the statue of Irrippi Ontor at its apex. In a way, Erinalta’s band was really the second layer of distraction… as long as the temple was destroyed, the power of the moon would wane and the empire’s minions would lose power and hope! Initially, all went well. Though the water spirits couldn’t climb the ziggurat and were unable to destabilize the structure, the air and fire spirits broke the stone below the base of the statue with bolt after bolt of lightning, causing it to slowly lean and then tumble to the street below! It was then that the Elder Sister, frowning fiercely, stood up on the ramparts of the city lord’s palace. She pointed at her High Guard, the most loyal of loyal troops. “It is time for you to give your all for the Goddess! Let it be done!” Their bodies shook and then they all fell dead as if struck by an invisible hand! After a moment, foul wraiths rose from their bodies and immediately began to attack the living. They lifespan was limited… the abominable existence was powered by their very souls and when that power was exhausted, they would be gone for all Time. But until then, they slew and slew! Elder Sister nodded, as if that foulness was pleasing to her. She then raised a hand and said, “Let all on whom the moon gazes be struck with the Hunger!” This curse was even worse! No matter whom, friend or foe, began madly to eat whatever was at hand. Kin slew kin and fed on their bodies. Mothers ate their children and were eaten in turn. Only those that hid away from the sky were spared… until found by their hungry neighbors! Erinalta, eyes bloodshot with the strain of resisting the geas, yelled. “The castle! To the castle! Food waits you there! Tear down the gates and feast on them!” She made no distinction between food and their enemies, realizing there was no difference now. “Citizens, do you see?! You are not slaves, you are cattle! You live in blind obedience until it’s your turn at the slaughterhouse!” Only her urgings kept any of her force moving in the right direction as many were already lost. More than half had already succumbed to mindless, hunger, the attacks of their comrades, or the soul-eating wraiths. Meanwhile, the statue had come to life and was crushing all around… citizens, troops, buildings, enemies! The two Earthshaker priestesses died as the massive foot not only smashed them but the entire residence from which they directed spirits and magic into the battle. Despite accidental victories, the number of friendly casualties outnumbered enemy deaths by twenty to one! Tree saw that the statue couldn’t be overcome with power, so he flew up with his few remaining air spirits with power and seduced the incarnation of the lunar hero with just his words. It shouldn’t have worked. It couldn’t have worked. But. It. DID! He couldn’t encourage the statue to complete the destruction of the temple, but he did convince her to leave the battle to find an appropriate place to consummate their tryst. Unfortunately, she picked him and took him along with her, making a trail of destruction through the city and a new hole in the wall. Erinalta was not nearly so lucky. Her remaining troops, weakened and maddened by hunger, were no match for Elder Sister and the City Lord who had not taken part in any of the fighting. She was dragged in front of them, still armed as a sign of contempt as her strength was all but gone. Elder Sister looked down and sneered, “Do you still deny the divinity of the most holy Moon now, heathen?” “No!” Erinalta shouted! “No? Then why are you here?” She roared her defiance! “The Red Moon is a Goddess but even GODS CAN DIE! Hear my prophecy! The Moon will be dragged out of the sky! And her mewling sycophants will be crushed beneath her bloated weight!” Just then, she grabbed her mace and attempted to crush her own skull to avoid her own fate but tendrils of energy from the Elder Sister stopped her. The older sister twisted her wrist and the woman vanished. A few miles away, and a few 'blissful' months later, the shaman was being eaten in an overabundance of ardor… a kiss turned deadly. Her paramour now safely consumed and kept near her heart, the statue slowly made her way back to the city and climbed the ziggurat before becoming still once again. And the heroes awoke! Player knowledge below... The Erinalta berserker cult has lost all its traditional abilities and is now an agricultural cult. Their main ability is Sacrifice. They reap one in ten people during lean times to guarantee bountiful harvests. There's probably a certain amount of cannibalism involved in this rite.